


For the World

by AShortWalkToDelinquency



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Day At The Beach, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sea Glass, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26204902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AShortWalkToDelinquency/pseuds/AShortWalkToDelinquency
Summary: It's family vacation time for Malcolm, Gil, and their daughter Analyn!Analyn goes back to where the sand is damp, leaving patterns of footprints for the tide to wash away, and Gil takes his time massaging the sunscreen into Malcolm's skin, hands lingering longer than strictly necessary as they trail over Malcolm's chest and back. Malcolm arches an eyebrow at Gil as his hands drift down to his stomach, not even pretending to rub the lotion in anymore."Now's not really the time for this, Gil," he says with a smirk.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Comments: 12
Kudos: 28





	For the World

**Author's Note:**

  * For [missneko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missneko/gifts).



> Happy birthday Neko!! Hope you have the best day!!

"Daddy?" The little voice floats to the front seat around a big yawn.

Malcolm's quite pleased Analyn slept as long as she did. It only takes about two and a half hours to drive from their house to the Milton family home in the Hamptons, but two and a half hours can feel like an eternity with an energetic four year old in the car. 

"Yeah, sweet pea?" he answers, twisting around in the passenger seat to face her, smiling as she rubs the sleep from her eyes with a tiny fist.

"Are we there?" Analyn asks, stretching her neck to look out the window to see the scenery — so unlike her usual Manhattan backdrop — flying by in a blur.

"Almost," Malcolm says, reaching back to give her foot a squeeze where she managed to kick one of her shoes off in her sleep. "It's only about twenty more minutes."

Her face scrunches up as she tries to work out exactly how long that will be, her lips pursing exactly like her papa's do when he's frustrated with Malcolm for running off into danger without backup, and Malcolm chuckles as he watches.

"What is funny?" she says skeptically, suspecting that Malcolm is laughing at her.

"Sorry, sweet pea, you just look an awful lot like Papa right now," Malcolm says, smiling over at Gil as his husband's eyes inevitably drift to the rear view mirror to look at their daughter. Analyn's gaze catches Gil's in the mirror and her pensive look transforms into a blinding smile as she waves both hands frantically. 

"Hi, Papa!" she shouts, giggling as Gil attempts to wave back over his shoulder.

"Hi, sweet pea," Gil says, his smile crinkling his eyes as he watches his little girl through the mirror. "Did you have a good nap?"

Analyn hums her response before darting a shifty gaze at Malcolm. "Daddy said...Daddy said I look like you. But," she takes a breath and tries to work out why that doesn't seem right. "I don't got scratchy hairs." She brings her palms to the area beside her mouth, imitating Gil's goatee, before her hands move to her pigtails, pulling them away from her head as she adds, "And you don't got braids."

Malcolm smiles at Gil, a twinkle in his eye as he says, "Maybe we should braid Papa's hair this weekend."

Analyn's delighted squeal pretty much guarantees Gil's fate, and he levels a look at Malcolm, clearly conveying his warning of 'there will be payback for this', even as the corner of his lips tugs up into an amused smile.

"Papa pretty!" Analyn tosses her head back with a laugh that rings through the car. It's only once the laughter dies down that she looks to Gil, suddenly serious, and asks "Are we there now?" 

"Soon. I promise" Gil smiles back at her before focusing on the road.

"Do you want to watch an episode of 'Yo Gabba Gabba!'?" Malcolm asks and turns back around to grab the tablet and cue it up at her nod, hooking up her headphones before handing it back and leaning into the back seat to settle the purple and orange headphones over her ears.

She shoos him away, of course, wanting to do everything on her own, and soon she's happily absorbed in the colourful world in front of her.

"Guess the headphones are kind of pointless," Malcolm smiles, looking over his baby girl one last time, watching her try to dance along with the monsters on the screen from the confines of her car seat, belting out her off-key rendition whichever song they're currently singing. 

Malcolm untwists his body and settles back into his seat, catching Gil's arched eyebrow as he goes, and though his husband hasn't said a word, Malcolm knows exactly what he's thinking.

"Screen time limits do _not_ apply on long car or airplane rides," Malcolm says, ready to defend himself against the judgment that never comes. "Almost all the parenting sites agree. I can show you."

Gil reaches across the seat and takes hold of Malcolm's hand, giving a small squeeze, saying, "It's fine, sweetheart. I was just thinking you're the best daddy she could ever hope for."

Malcolm blushes at the praise, but can't deny he's pleased to hear it. Fatherhood did not come easily to Malcolm. There were a number of panic attacks along the way — fears that he'd hurt their daughter like Martin hurt him, anxiety over his ability to care for another life when he'd barely managed to keep _himself_ alive for all those years before he and Gil had found their way to one another, those and a thousand other worries invading his mind.

Gil had held him and reassured him and loved him through each one of those panic attacks, but it took holding his daughter that first time for him to really start to shed those fears. The second that the tiny, mewling baby was placed in his arms, he knew he would move heaven and earth to give his little girl everything she could ever need; that he would die before he caused her any pain; that his fears about becoming his father were entirely unfounded.

Even still, he's flooded with a warm contentment to hear that Gil believes him to be a good father. Malcolm still has the occasional bout of nerves, afraid that he's going to let his family down, so his husband's support means the world to him.

Gil keeps him grounded while still indulging his insane research through every parenting book, scientific journal, and mommy blog that he can get his obsessive little hands on. He loves Malcolm unconditionally, but never hesitates to stand his ground when Malcolm goes overboard, which happens more often than he'd care to admit

He's Malcolm's partner, in every sense of the word.

Malcolm squeezes Gil's hand in return, keeping hold for the remainder of the drive, listening to Analyn sing her little heart out in the back seat until they turn down the long driveway that will lead them to the sprawling manor. Analyn perks up and looks out the window as the car slows down, pulling her headphones off with an excited shout of, "We're here!"

"I'm surprised she remembers," Gil says as he swings the car around to stop near the door for easy access to unload their bags. Once they're settled in, he'll move the car to one of the numerous garage bays not far from the main house.

It's only been a couple of months since Jessica brought Analyn out here for a week, back when Malcolm and Gil were in the middle of an especially gruesome and very public murder investigation. She's been asking to come back nearly every day since then, but Malcolm is just as surprised as Gil that Analyn would recognize the estate before the house even came into view.

"Daddy, Papa, we're here!" Analyn claps her hands together and would likely bounce out of her seat if it wasn't for the straps holding her securely in place.

It's only a matter of minutes before all of their bags are in the front entry and Analyn is pulling at Malcolm's hand to show him her bedroom while Gil moves the car. 

"Nana says there's a 'prise for me," she says excitedly, leading him unerringly to the bedroom she claimed as her own the last time she was here.

He smiles as she tugs him to the door that now has a plaque with her name on it in complementary shades of pink and purple. She bounces on the balls of her feet when she sees it, pointing up with wide eyes and a smile that makes Malcolm's heart swell.

"Daddy, it's me!" Analyn says, recognizing the letters of her name immediately.

"Yeah, sweet pea, that's your name. Should we go inside?" Malcolm asks, knowing that if the plaque was Nana's only surprise, his daughter would be pleased as punch. He's well aware, though, that Jessica had the room redone just for Analyn and can only imagine what lies beyond the door.

He opens the door and looks down to his little girl as her eyes grow comically wide, her mouth dropping open in a near silent gasp. Malcolm looks from Analyn to the bedroom and finds his own eyes mimicking hers. Jessica has completely outdone herself.

The room is decorated in a palette of cream, pinks, and purples that walk the fine line between whimsical and classic. There's an ornate chandelier hanging in the center of the room, dripping in crystals that catch the beams of sunlight flooding the room and refract into points of rainbows along the walls. A child-size wardrobe sits open on the left side of the room, filled with dozens of princess dresses and accessories that make Malcolm roll his eyes at the excess, with shelves of tiaras and costume jewelry on the side. A small vanity is placed to the right of that and, as Malcolm takes in the row of brightly coloured cosmetics lining the surface, he makes a mental note to speak with Jessica about not supplying his four year old with makeup.

The highlight of the space, though, the show-stopping piece that's captivated his daughter's attention, is the bed on the right hand side of the room. Even Malcolm can't help but be impressed with the fairytale castle, with six turrets reaching up to the ceiling, a curved staircase on one side leading to a loft area on top, and a curved slide on the other side to keep the structure symmetrical. The bed itself is partially closed in by lush fabrics, draped from the loft area above and tied off at the sides, leaving an Analyn-sized opening to crawl in the sleeping area, filled with puffy pillows and stuffed animals. 

The whole thing is extravagant and, frankly, ridiculous, but he'll forever be grateful to his mother for sparking _that look_ on his daughter's face. She is completely in awe of the fit-for-a-princess bedroom, frozen in place only a few steps into the room. Malcolm is inconspicuously slipping his phone from his jacket pocket to snap a picture when he hears Gil's footfall down the hall. He takes a burst of pictures and steps out of the way so Gil can have a clear view of their daughter's amazement. 

Gil steps in with a question on his lips, but it fades into a soft smile as he takes in the scene in front of him. With a quick grin to Malcolm, he drops down to one knee next to Analyn and says, "Is this your bedroom, sweet pea?"

Analyn looks over to him and then up at Malcolm, unsure if all of it is really just for her. Malcolm nods, his heart full to bursting at the joy radiating from her as she turns to Gil, a smile breaking over her face as she whispers, "Yes."

"Well then, you should probably go explore it, don't you think?" Gil asks as he brings a hand to the back of her neck.

It takes a second for the words to sink in, but then she's running to her bed, launching herself through the opening to the cozy little nook where she'll be sleeping the next three nights, the excited chatter as she meets her new stuffed animal friends floating to Gil and Malcolm through the draped fabric.

Malcolm takes advantage of her distraction to commandeer the makeup from the vanity, scooping it up and dropping it in the bags that Gil had been carrying when he came to the bedroom door.

Gil pushes to his feet and walks over to Malcolm once the makeup is squared away, tossing an arm around his shoulders and tugging him close enough to press a kiss to his temple.

"Jess outdid herself in here," Gil says as he looks around the opulent space.

"She really did," Malcolm replies, eyes on his daughter as she climbs out of the sleeping nook and makes her way up the spiral staircase to the little loft area above.

"Papa, Daddy!" she shouts as she leans up against the balcony railing, which Malcolm is relieved to see comes to chest height on her, so they don't need to worry about an accidental tumble. "Look!"

"We see you," Malcolm says. "You look like a princess up there."

"All that's missing is a princess dress," Gil adds innocently, cracking a smile when her eyes dart to the wardrobe full of dresses and light up brighter than the crystals on the chandelier.

"Careful!" Malcolm warns as she rushes towards the slide. He pouts a little as she rolls her eyes at him, but she slows down and gets settled on her bum before pushing down the slide with a giggle. He decides he's more than happy to be the overprotective parent if it means she doesn't fall off of a castle.

They spend the next hour or so playing in her new bedroom ("Why does Daddy get to be the prince and I have to be the horse?" Gil asks, mock-offended, as he lowers himself to his hands and knees while Malcolm stands back and bats his eyelashes at their role assignments. Analyn comes over with a very serious expression weighing heavy on her beautiful little face and places her hands on Gil's cheeks, saying, "You're the bestest at horsey rides, Papa. You can be prince next, okay?" Gil leans in and kisses the tip of her nose before neighing loudly, much to Analyn's delight) before Malcolm and Gil decide to leave her to it so they can go unpack their bags.

"Think you can play by yourself while Papa and I go unpack and make some lunch, sweet pea?" Malcolm asks, plucking the tiara from his head and laying it back on the shelf, then removing the feather boa from around his husband's neck with a wink and a sultry smile.

"Yep!" Analyn doesn't even look up from where she's arranging her new stuffed animals around a small table, already laid out for a tea party.

Their bedroom (the bedroom that had been Malcolm's when he was growing up), is just down the hall from Analyn's, and they can still hear her non-stop chatter as they empty their suitcases into the dresser and closet.

"She's never going to want to leave," Malcolm says as he runs his hand over one of Gil's softest sweaters before closing it in the drawer.

Gil hums his agreement as he takes their toiletry kits to the en suite, a pensive look settling on his face as he sits on the edge of the bed next to where Malcolm is tucking his mouth guard and nighttime meds away in the bedside table.

"Maybe we should start coming out here a little more often," Gil says slowly.

Malcolm turns to him, eyes flitting from Gil's face to where his hands are fiddling in his lap as Malcolm subconsciously reads his facial expressions and body language for hints as to what he's thinking, years of profiler training kicking in automatically as he works to solve the puzzle in front of him. It's only as he watches Gil's face shift from contemplative to amused that he realizes what he's doing. 

"Sorry," Malcolm says sheepishly, nose crinkling in embarrassment. It's not that Gil ever gets upset by it, but he's made it abundantly clear over the years that Malcolm doesn't need to profile him to find out what he's thinking; he just needs to ask.

"It's fine," Gil says, reaching out to take hold of Malcolm's hand and tug him over, spreading his legs slightly so Malcolm can stand between them. As Gil's arms wrap around Malcolm's waist, pulling him close, Malcolm's arms drape around Gil's neck to hang loose down his back.

Malcolm doesn't even think, just leans down and presses his lips to Gil's, their mouths moving perfectly against one another's. When Gil's tongue swipes across Malcolm's lips, he parts them with a quiet sigh, sinking against Gil's body as their tongues dance together.

They take their time exploring each other's mouths, but after a few minutes Malcolm pulls back, knowing that letting things progress any further will just lead to disappointment when they're unable to finish what they start. He only pulls a couple of inches away, far too comfortable in Gil's arms to step away completely.

"You want to come here more often?" Malcolm inquires quietly, asking rather than trying to profile an answer. He's trying really hard not to assume anything, but he can't help but get his hopes up.

"Maybe it's time I let JT and Powell take a little more responsibility," Gil says, resting his forehead against Malcolm's chest. "I'm not ready to retire, kid. Not yet. But maybe it's time to consider scaling back. Spending more time with you and Ana."

Malcolm would never push, but honestly, it's everything he could ask for. He understands, perhaps better than anyone, that their work is more than just a job; it's a calling. And he would never ask Gil to walk away entirely, just like Gil would never ask it of him. But when they had Analyn, Malcolm eased up on his caseload, and it was the best decision he ever made. Having more time to spend with their daughter — and less time focusing on the dark and gruesome facets of life — has been a salve on the open wounds of his past, and the last four years have been the happiest of his life. All he wants is for Gil to have a chance to experience the same thing.

"Really?" Malcolm asks as nonchalantly as he can manage.

Gil huffs a laugh that ruffles against Malcolm's shirt. "I know you're trying to tamp down your enthusiasm, but you're doing a terrible job."

Malcolm laughs in return and drops a kiss to the top of Gil's head, running a hand through his hair to encourage him to look up.

"You know I support whatever decision you want to make, but I won't lie that it would be amazing to have you around more often." Malcolm means it more than anything. Analyn is growing so fast that everyday feels like a whole new adventure, and while he loves the time that they spend together just the two of them, having more time with Gil would make things absolutely perfect.

"I want that, too," Gil says gently and pulls himself back, sliding his hands to Malcolm's hips. "But we can talk about that when we get home. For now, I think you said something about lunch."

One last kiss and they head down to the gourmet kitchen to prepare a light lunch, quickly whipping up three ham, pear, and swiss sandwiches. As Gil is about to grab plates to put them on, Malcolm has an idea.

"Why don't we make it a picnic?" he says, halting Gil's hand halfway to the cabinet. "You know she'd be tickled pink to eat on the beach."

"Excellent idea, Daddy," Gil says, dropping his arm and heading instead to the pantry to grab some glass containers to store their lunch in. Malcolm, meanwhile, fills up a few others with apple chips, grapes, and goldfish crackers, then grabs three bottles of water from the fully stocked fridge and they're almost ready to go.

It takes several minutes for Malcolm to find the vintage picnic basket that he remembers from when he was a child — visions of outdoor lunches with Ainsley, Jessica, and Martin filling his head, vibrant remnants of a happy time before his world went dark — plopping it on the counter with an _aha_ and a self-satisfied smile to his husband.

"Good job, sweetheart," Gil laughs and begins loading their spoils into the basket. "Is there a specific blanket we should use? I don't want to incur Jessica's wrath for using an antique family treasure."

"Uh, I'm not sure," Malcolm says, eyebrows pulling together as he tries to think back to what they had used when he was a boy, but that level of detail seems to escape him. He remembers Ainsley running into the water, arms flapping as she calls for him to come with her. He remembers looking back at his parents from the water, seeing Jessica curled up next to Martin, his arm slung around her shoulders and happy smiles on both of their faces. But when he focuses on the details — the colour of Ainsley's bathing suit, the blanket they were sitting on, whether Martin's smile was genuine or forced — the memory becomes hazy and starts to fade away. "But we can just say that Analyn chose the blanket, and you know she'll let it slide even if it's a priceless Milton heirloom."

He's joking, mostly, but it's true. Jessica spoils their daughter to no end and has a soft spot for the little girl that warms Malcolm's heart. He's quite certain that becoming a nana is the best thing that ever happened to Jessica Whitly. Analyn seemed to be a balm to her wounds in the same way she was to Malcolm's, an unexpected remedy to the guilt they'd both been carrying for over two decades. 

Gil said once, when they were discussing how happy Jessica was, that Analyn was a light in the darkness that Martin had left behind. He's right, of course, but Malcolm thinks there's an even simpler explanation: there's just no room in their hearts for anger and guilt when there's so much love for that little girl.

Malcolm heads to the linen closet where the beach towels and toys are kept, unsurprised to find a beach blanket folded up in the bottom shelf. He throws the blanket under his arm and grabs a small plastic pail and shovel as well and makes his way back to the kitchen, holding his offerings up to Gil as he walks in with a smile.

"Perfect," Gil says, "now we just need to sunscreen the princess." 

"On it," Malcolm says, dropping the blanket and toys on the kitchen island and bounding up the stairs calling, "Oh, your highness! It's time for a royal outing!"

Analyn's head pokes out of the room as he's coming down the hall, a mess of lipstick smearing her mouth and cheeks, and a blinding smile on her face.

Malcolm breathes deeply and reminds himself to check the drawers of the vanity when he gets back for any other makeup he may have missed. "You look…" Malcolm pauses as her face lights up, clearly proud of the makeup she's applied, "beautiful. But we need to wash up and put some sunscreen on. Papa is waiting with a lovely picnic for us to have on the beach."

The objections he's expecting about being torn away from her new room never come, and he has her sitting on the counter in Jessica's bathroom no time, princess dress abandoned in favour of a bathing suit under light shorts and a t-shirt for the beach. The baby wipes he initially tried to remove the lipstick from his daughter's face did little to erase the bright red stains and he quickly realized that makeup remover wipes were the way to go.

"Sweet pea, we're gonna have to talk about you playing with makeup later, okay?" Malcolm says as he gently holds her face still while he swipes the damp wipe over her skin, hoping to scrub the pout off her face along with the lipstick. "But that can wait until later. For now, Papa is waiting. And I think _someone_ said something about wanting to go collect some more sea glass?"

"I did! I said that!" The upcoming makeup battle is forgotten immediately as she brightens about the prospect of collecting sea glass again. The small haul she came home with after spending the week with Jessica is laid out on the windowsill in her bedroom, constantly being rearranged by colour or size or which ones are prettiest.

"Lunch first," he reminds her as he uses a soft washcloth to give one final swipe over her freshly cleaned face. Another few minutes and she's sunscreened up — as is he — and they're ready to go, Analyn speeding down the hall towards the kitchen. "Hold the railing," Malcolm calls out as she approaches the stairs, and even with her back turned, he knows she's rolling her eyes at him.

"I thought you two got lost," Gil says as they walk into the kitchen, the question as to what held them up clear in his eyes. Malcolm just shakes his head, letting him know they can discuss it later, and picks up the picnic basket.

"Who's ready for a picnic?" he asks, laughing as Gil raises his hand as emphatically as Analyn does. "Okay, let's get a move on, then."

There's a pathway that leads to the beach from the back of the house and Analyn takes off like a shot as soon as they're out the door, Gil and Malcolm walking arm-in-arm behind her, keeping her in their line of vision the whole time. They don't stray far for their picnic, laying out the blue and brown plaid beach blanket just past the end of the pathway.

Analyn digs in with gusto, thankfully having inherited Gil's appetite rather than Malcolm's. Though he eats better now than ever before, Malcolm still struggles with food and it's not unusual for his daughter to eat more than he does. Today is no exception, as Analyn devours her entire sandwich (minus the crusts) while Malcolm only manages half of his, handing the rest off to Gil with an apologetic smile.

The warm hand that finds its way to Malcolm's neck is so familiar after all these years that he instantly relaxes into the touch, taking it as the reminder it is that Gil understands and accepts everything about him.

"Daddy, can we find sea glass now?" Analyn asks, wiping her hands on a napkin before tossing it into the picnic basket and looking up with the big brown eyes that are so much like her papa's that Malcolm has never been able to say no.

"Of course, let's pack all of this up and then we'll go." Malcolm smiles as she claps her hands in delight and begins tossing everything back into the picnic basket as quickly as her little hands will let her, going so far as to pluck Gil's water bottle from his hand. Gil just barely has time to twist the lid back on before it goes sailing into the wicker basket. 

With Analyn's help, they're cleaned up and ready to walk in no time at all, leaving their lunch supplies a few steps up the pathway and making their way along the beach with only the little shovel and pail, which Malcolm carries dangling from his finger. Analyn is so intent on combing the beach for treasures that, more than once, Gil has to reach out and stop her from wandering into the waves as they crash to the shore.

"She clearly inherited your single minded focus," Gil says as he slides up to Malcolm's side after one such occasion of steering their daughter away from the water. "And possibly your self preservation skills," Gil calls over his shoulder as he chases Analyn into the water where something shiny has caught her eye just as a wave is coming in. The water comes up to Gil's knees as it washes in, high enough that it would have knocked over Analyn — who is paying no attention whatsoever to her surroundings — if it weren't for Gil's steadying hands on her back.

Analyn looks up in shock at discovering herself suddenly wet and Malcolm and Gil break down in belly-deep laughter at the expression.

"Sweet pea," Malcolm gasps, laughing so hard he's doubled over and can't quite catch his breath, "you need to watch where you're going."

She seems torn between laughing along with them and being outraged that they're laughing at her in the first place, but then the water ebbs and she sees the treasure that got her wet in the first place. She crouches down to uncover a piece of turquoise sea glass that Malcolm is certain is going to become her most prized possession.

"Daddy," she says reverently as she holds up the frosted glass fragment, looking to Malcolm with wide eyes before turning her gaze to Gil. "Papa."

Gil scoops her up as the next wave crashes in, holding her on his hip, careless of the fact that she's soaking his shorts and t-shirt where she's pressed against him. "What did you find there?" Gil asks, nodding to the glass that she's holding very carefully in her hand.

"It's pretty," she says, holding it up towards Gil's face for inspection. "Can I show Nana?"

"Yeah, we can FaceTime Nana tonight and you can show her then, okay?" Malcolm says, holding up the little pail for her to put the glass into, which she does with a gentleness that says just how precious her find is to her. "And you can thank her for your special princess bedroom, too."

"Okay," Analyn smiles, pleased that she'll get to talk to her nana when they get back to the house.

They ramble along the beach for hours, going back and forth so they're never too terribly far from the house. Eventually Analyn gives up on her treasure hunt and switches to running in and out of the water, far more amused by the waves when she's paying attention enough to see them coming.

Gil heads back to the house mid-afternoon to grab a couple of beach chairs, towels, and some sunscreen to reapply on Analyn and Malcolm. By the time he gets back, there's a pile of shoes, shirts, Analyn's shorts, and their bucket full of treasures waiting in the sand, while Malcolm and Analyn chase each other through the shallow waves, splashing water at one another between fits of giggles.

Malcolms sees from the corner of his eye as Gil sets up the two folding beach chairs and is unsurprised when Gil's booming voice cuts over the waves and floats to where he and Analyn are currently trying to see who can make the biggest splash.

"Ana, come get some sunscreen on."

It's fascinating to Malcolm to watch the play of emotions over his daughter's face as she hears her papa, considers his words, decides to ignore them, and then goes back to splashing Malcolm.

He knows he should tell her to go let Gil reapply the sunscreen and then they can play some more, but he can't actually bring himself to do it. Instead, he splashes her right back.

"Analyn Bright-Arroyo," Gil tries again, a hint of warning in the tone that Malcolm knows damn well will amount to nothing, but it clearly makes Analyn stop to reconsider her stance on pushing her boundaries. 

Malcolm stiffles a chuckle as Analyn huffs and pouts and stomps her way over to Gil to get sunscreened up. It takes all of two minutes and then Gil is calling Malcolm over as well, amusement clear in his voice. "Malcolm Bright-Arroyo, your daughter is not the only one that needs more sunscreen. Get over here." 

Analyn goes back to where the sand is damp, leaving patterns of footprints for the tide to wash away, and Gil takes his time massaging the sunscreen into Malcolm's skin, hands lingering longer than strictly necessary as they trail over Malcolm's chest and back. Malcolm arches an eyebrow at Gil as his hands drift down to his stomach, not even pretending to rub the lotion in anymore.

"Now's not really the time for this, Gil," he says with a smirk.

"I'm not going to waste an opportunity to get my hands on you, city boy," Gil returns, slowly dragging a knuckle over the treasure trail leading down from Malcolm's belly button. 

"I hope that statement holds true after sweet pea goes to bed tonight," Malcolm winks, leaning in and pressing up on his toes in the warm sand to kiss his husband lightly.

"Analyn, it's bedtime!" Gil shouts over to their little girl, his laugh making it clear he's only joking, though Malcolm sees a glimmer in his eyes that says he wouldn't be opposed to the idea.

Though Analyn obviously doesn't understand why it's funny, she smiles back at them and says, "No, Papa. It's daytime. Come play!"

"It was worth a shot," Gil shrugs as a smile pulls playfully at his lips, then slides a hand down Malcolm's arm until their fingers are laced together, tugging him towards the little ball of energy that's chasing the ocean out and then running away on tiptoes from the waves as they break on the shore.

They spend the rest of the afternoon out on the beach, alternating between playing with Analyn and relaxing on the beach chairs while she builds castles in the sand. Malcolm can't help the smile that lands on his face as he watches his daughter; Analyn is a happy-go-lucky child by nature, but she seems especially content out here with the sun and the surf and both of her parents by her side. He can't help but hope that Gil is serious about spending more time there, together as a family. 

When it's finally time to head back, the air has started to turn a little cooler. Malcolm wraps Analyn up in a fluffy beach towel and scoops her up, dropping a kiss on her head as she snuggles against his chest, while Gil gathers all of their beach gear to cart back to the house.

By the time they get cleaned up and changed and set dinner on the table, even Malcolm is hungry. They all dig in with appetites born of a busy day of fun in the sun, making quick work of the simple but delicious meal. Gil surprises them with red velvet cupcakes for dessert — Malcolm and Analyn's favourite sweet treat — and soon Analyn is covered in cream cheese icing.

"I'm pretty sure she got more of it on her than she did in her mouth," Malcolm laughs as he grabs a damp cloth from the kitchen to wipe the sticky mess from their daughter's hands and face (and chest, and legs and, somehow, her hair). He gives it up as a lost cause when he finds frosting behind her ear. "Okay, apparently it's bathtime."

Analyn tries to squirm away but Malcolm is quicker, tossing her over his shoulder as she squeals and tries to wriggle out of his grasp, her process hindered by how hard she's laughing as he carts her down the hall.

By the time he gets back, Gil has the leftovers packed away and the kitchen sparkling clean. He finds his husband sitting in the spacious sitting room with his feet propped up on the table and his cell phone in hand.

"You know," Malcolm says as he drops a pyjama-clad Analyn in his lap, "I think they can handle a whole weekend without you checking in." He knows damn well that Gil is questioning JT and Dani about their current case.

"I'll have you know I'm chatting with Jess about FaceTiming tonight," Gil says, but the way he refuses to meet Malcolm's eyes says that's not the full story. Malcolm tilts his head, waiting for the rest of the story until Gil adds, "Fine, I checked in with the team, too. I _am_ still their commanding officer."

The 'for now' hangs in the air, unsaid, but Malcolm can't help but notice how the idea doesn't seem to fill Gil with trepidation like it used to. He plops down on the sofa and leans into Gil, pecking him on the cheek and then resting his head on his shoulder.

"Are we calling Nana?" Analyn asks, twisting in Gil's lap to look at her parents with excited eyes before flinging herself towards her bounty of sea glass and shells when she receives two nods in response.

Gil calls Jessica while Analyn is gathering her treasures, Jessica's face popping up on the screen immediately, her make-up still appearing expertly applied despite the fact that she's curled on the sofa in the den. Malcolm would be willing to bet there's a glass of wine and a binder full of statements for the charitable organizations that his mother heads (anonymously, for the most part, though she has slowly been reintroducing the Whitly name as a source of good throughout the last few years) sitting on the table beside her.

"Gil," Jessica's voice slides sweet as honey over the line, "you look like a bronzed Adonis. The Hamptons appears to agree with you quite nicely."

Gil huffs a laugh, but Malcolm notices the slight flush that sweeps over his cheeks. The past relationship between Gil and Jessica certainly made things...interesting when Malcolm and Gil first started dating. There were some very awkward conversations to struggle through in the early days, but as Malcolm and Gil's relationship developed into something that none of them could deny was anything less than a soul-deep love, that discomfort seemed to dissipate surprisingly quickly.

The residual embarrassment, however, still occasionally rears its head.

"Mother," Malcolm says, leaning into the frame so Jessica can see him as well. "Please refrain from coming onto my husband."

"Malcolm, darling! Just because he's your husband doesn't mean I can't appreciate the view," Jessica waves away Malcolm's objection with a perfectly manicured hand. "I'm a red-blooded woman, dear, I can certainly admire a fine specimen of a man when I see one."

Malcolm rolls his eyes as he sees the playful spark in Jessica's eyes, knowing she's purposefully teasing Gil just to make him blush. He's of two minds about the entire thing. He doesn't want Gil uncomfortable, but on the other hand, the man is especially beautiful with his crinkled nose and heated face.

"Alright. Fine. I'll leave Gil alone." Jessica capitulates, raising a hand in defeat, "Where's my little angel? Has she seen her room yet?"

"Nana!" Analyn flies over and launches herself onto Malcolm's lap before wriggling over to Gil's for a better look at the phone screen. She's holding the piece of turquoise sea glass and thrusts it out to the camera. "Look!"

"My goodness!" Jessica exclaims, "That is quite the gem you found there."

It's not long before Analyn has plucked the phone from Gil's grasp and taken it over to the coffee table where her goods are spread out on a towel, showing Jessica all of her treasures (and only dropping Gil's phone once in the process). There's a lengthy discussion about her new bedroom as well, and Malcolm can hear the smile in his mother's voice as Analyn squeals and tells her about all of her favourite parts.

"You know, sometimes I think we might as well not exist anymore," Malcolm says snuggling up against Gil's firm chest. "It's like we've served our purpose in giving her a grandchild and are just spare parts now."

Gil huffs a laugh and presses a kiss to the top of Malcolm's head. "I see that smile on your face when they're talking, Bright. Don't pretend you don't love the way Jess dotes on her."

He really does love the way Jessica and Analyn have bonded and is grateful that Jessica took to being a grandparent so easily. It's a special relationship that those two have, and he's honestly thrilled about it.

The chat lasts just over a half hour, and Malcolm and Gil stay curled on the sofa together the entire time as the Analyn and Jess fawn over sea glass and princess beds. It's only as Analyn lets out her third big yawn that Gil gets up to end the call. 

"Okay, ladies," he grunts, bending over to scoop up Analyn, "how about Nana says goodnight to you in your princess bed?"

Analyn lights up at that and nearly drops Gil's phone again in her excitement, Gil's lightning quick reflexes the only thing stopping it from sailing to the floor. Malcolm follows their path up the stairs, heading into Analyn's bedroom and turning on the fairy lights that line the inside of her little sleeping nook before drawing the curtains and shutting off the chandelier overhead. He pulls back the covers and gets everything ready for bedtime while Gil, Analyn, and Jessica run through the nighttime bathroom routine next door.

When Analyn pads into the darkened room and sees the fairy lights twinkling in her brand new bed, she gasps and dashes over, climbing in with a giggle that fills Malcolm with joy.

"Nana, look!" Analyn cries out, making grabby hands for the phone that Gil is aiming towards her.

Gil hands the phone over with a chuckle and Analyn immediately lays down and aims the phone up to the canopy of glinting lights overhead. 

"It's beautiful, my angel," Jessica says through the speaker, "like stars in the sky."

"Okay, sweet pea, it's time to say goodnight to Nana," Gil says after a few minutes of Analyn showing her new bed to Jessica.

Analyn pouts but recognizes that arguing about bedtime is a losing battle when Papa is around. She's well aware that when it's only Daddy around for bedtime — those nights when Papa is held up at work — there's much more wiggle room, and she certainly takes advantage of those times. "G'night, Nana!"

Gil takes the phone back with a smile and a kiss to his daughter's head, before turning his attention to Jessica. "Thank you, Jess. The bedroom is wonderful and she loves it."

"It's my pleasure," Jessica says, and even without seeing her face, Malcolm can tell she means it. "Only the best for my little angel."

"You spoil her," Gil says matter-of-factly, but his smile takes any sting from the reprimand. 

"Of course I do, Gil. That's what grandparents are for," she replies, just as matter-of-factly.

Malcolm makes his way to Gil's side, laughing as he says, "Then you're certainly doing your job. Thank you, mom."

"Of course, darling. Goodnight to you both, and goodnight to my little angel," Jessica says, blowing a kiss to Analyn as Gil tilts the phone her way one last time before he ends the call with a promise to phone again in a few days.

"Alright, Ana," Gil tucks his phone in his pocket and makes his way next to the bed where Analyn is still gazing up at the twinkling lights. "Who's reading you a story tonight?"

Analyn looks back and forth between the two men and eventually decides, "Daddy."

"Okay, goodnight sweet pea," Gil says, leaning into the space for a goodnight kiss that makes Analyn giggle and squirm away from his tickly goatee hairs. He follows up her kiss with a quick peck to Malcolm's lips, saying, "Meet me on the deck when you're done."

"Night, Papa," Analyn says, settling into bed and pulling up the blankets.

Malcolm picks one of the books off of a small shelf next to the door and crawls into the nook with Analyn, stretching out on the bed once he's inside. He holds his arms up above him so Analyn can see the pictures, and begins to read.

"I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there's gum in my hair," Malcolm says, angling his arm out as Analyn wiggles her way against his side, pillowing her head in the crook of his underarm as she looks up at the pages of the book. She doesn't make it to the end of the book, doesn't even make it to Alexander's terrible, horrible dinner with lima beans, before she's fast asleep, exhausted by their busy day.

Malcolm still finishes, making sure she's sound asleep before he closes the book and cautiously maneuvers himself from the bed, careful not to wake her as he moves. A quick kiss to her forehead and he's sneaking out of her room, heading directly for the deck off the back of the house.

He slides the door open and steps out on the large deck, the structure spanning almost the full length of the house, with numerous seating areas spread across the planked flooring. Gil is at the far side of the deck, seated in an oversized deck chair, plush orange cushions bracketing his relaxed form. He's pulled up another of the chairs just next to his and set a small table between them holding a bottle of wine and two glasses, already poured and awaiting his presence.

Malcolm walks over with a smile on his face and a lightness in his heart, thinking that the day couldn't possibly get any better.

"Hey there, gorgeous," Gil smiles up at him as he approaches, "Did she settle in okay?"

"Didn't even make it through one book," he says, lifting the throw blanket that's draped over his chair before he sits down, settling it over his lap as soon as he's seated. Though the days are still hot this time of year, the evenings have a tendency to run a little cooler and he's grateful for the extra warmth.

Gil passes over one of the glasses of wine as Malcolm sinks into the plush cushions then picks up his own, raising it in a toast that Malcolm follows with his own.

"To a perfect first day of holidays," Gil smiles warmly, a twinkle in his eye that Malcolm loves to see.

"And to three more just like it," Malcolm adds before clinking his glass against Gil's.

They both take a sip of the wine — an exclusive vintage from the small wine cellar that's kept _very_ well stocked — and lean back in their chairs to look out over the expansive view in front of them. The railing that runs the length of the deck is glass, providing an unobstructed view of the walkway out to the beach and the water beyond, expanding until it meets the horizon and blends into the slowly dimming sky.

The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing on the shore has Malcolm relaxing immediately, his world narrowing down to the beautiful scenery around him, the man he loves beside him, and the daughter they both cherish, sound asleep up in her bedroom. 

He couldn't ask for anything more.

They sip at their wine in silence for a while, each man soaking in their surroundings with an appreciation born of years of strife. As the sky fades from muted shades of pinks and purples into the rich blue hues of the night, Gil finally breaks their companionable silence.

"Just so you know," Gil says, setting his nearly empty glass back on the table and looking over at Malcolm with a raised eyebrow, "that statement from earlier still holds true."

Malcolm feels a warmth pooling deep in his gut, knowing exactly what Gil is talking about. "Oh?" he says casually, crossing his right leg over his left and taking a sip of his wine to hide the smirk that's tugging at his lips. "And what statement might that be?"

Gil huffs a laugh, reaching a hand out as he says, "Get over here."

Malcolm certainly doesn't need to be asked twice. He sets his glass down on the table and tosses the blanket from his lap over the armrest before pushing nimbly to his feet. Gil's hands land firm on his hips as soon as he's within reach, tugging him forward until Malcolm drops into Gil's lap, his knees landing on either side of Gil's hips, sinking into the soft cushions below.

Gil makes good on his word, his hands roaming up and down over Malcolm's thighs and ass, obviously enjoying the opportunity to finally get his hands on his husband. 

Malcolm wastes no time dropping his lips to Gil's, wrapping his arms loosely around the man's neck as their tongues slide together, the taste of wine heavy on Gil's breath.

"Mmm," Malcolm moans quietly as Gil's hands slide up his front, fingers moving to deftly undo the buttons of Malcolm's casual grey button-up, the cool breeze sweeping over his skin as it's slowly exposed to the night air. "Maybe we should take this to the bedroom."

He starts to pull back, readying himself to get up, but is stopped by Gil's hands on his waist holding him in place as Gil's lips chase after his own.

"Or," Gil kisses him slowly, not even pulling away as he says, "we could stay out here."

Malcolm feels the blood rush south at the thought of Gil taking him here, outside on the deck. The houses are spaced so far apart that it's unlikely anyone would see them, especially since the only light is currently coming from inside the house. Still, there's an element of danger that certainly appeals to him and he finds himself rocking in Gil's lap, feeling his husband's growing arousal pressing against him through the fabric of their pants.

"Are you sure about this?" Malcolm asks, breathy with desire.

"Only if you want to, kid," Gil says, leaning in to kiss along Malcolm's jaw, lips dragging over the day's stubble as he trails kisses over to Malcolm's ear, pausing to nip and tug at Malcolm's earlobe before continuing on, moving down his neck and sucking a mark into the tender spot where neck meets shoulder.

Malcolm grinds down as Gil's mouth latches on to his neck. His husband knows exactly how sensitive he is there, and knows _exactly_ what it does to him when he kisses and nips and sucks _right there_.

"Shit. Yes, Gil." Malcolm huffs out as Gil's fingers find their way to his exposed nipples, pebbled slightly from the cold. He tosses his head back and slowly starts to rock his hips, providing them both with the smallest amount of friction where they're already craving it.

When Gil's lips and fingers disappear at the same time Malcolm nearly cries out, but then Gil is urging him off his lap and making quick work of the button and fly on Malcolm's trousers before giving them a tug down, taking his boxer briefs along with them.

"Grab the blanket," Gil says as he helps Malcolm step out of his pants, leaving him in just his unbuttoned shirt and nothing else in the cool evening air.

Malcolm does as he's told and picks up the blanket from his chair, holding it out to Gil as he moves back in front of him. Before he takes the blanket from him, Gil undoes his own pants, tugging them down just enough to pull his half-hard cock free of the confines, giving himself a few strokes as Malcolm stands watching, biting his bottom lip as he sees his husband's cock grow harder with each pass of his hand.

"You want my dick, sweetheart?" Gil smirks up at Malcolm, knowing damn well the answer to that question. "Wanna feel me deep inside of you?"

"Yes," Malcolm whispers, a shiver ripping through his body at his husband's words. Gil's voice does something to him at the best of times, but when he talks dirty to Malcolm, when he tell him what he wants to do — what he's _going_ to do to him — Malcolm is helpless to resist.

"C'mere sweetheart," Gil says as he takes the blanket from Malcolm's outstretched hand and drapes it over the arm of his chair.

With Gil's hands on his hips, his warmth seeping into Malcolm's cooling skin, Malcolm settles back into Gil's lap, fitting there like he was born to straddle him. As soon as he's stilled — with Gil's cock pressed up against his own, the feeling of skin against hot skin making his dick twitch and throb — Gil throws the blanket around his waist, blocking the cool night's breeze and creating a little cocoon for them in the chair.

It has the added bonus of Gil being able to tug on the edges to pull Malcolm closer. Which he does. As their lips slide together, Malcolm begins to roll his hips, their cocks sliding together at the same pace.

"Mmmm. That feels good," Gil says against Malcolm's lips as he brings his hand down to grab hold of both of their cocks. "Do you want to just get off like this? Or do you want me to fuck your greedy little hole?"

"Fuck." Malcolm's hips falter in their rhythm at Gil's words. He grasps tight to Gil's shoulders as he begs, "Please, fuck me."

He can feel Gil's lips pull into a smile where they're pressed against his own, and a tingle shoots down his spine at the fact that he's pleased Gil. His tongue darts out, seeking entry into Gil's mouth, teasing and dragging against Gil's tongue as soon as he's granted his wish. 

Without breaking the kiss, Malcolm feels Gil lean over to pick something up from beside his chair. When they finally pull apart, he's surprised and delighted to see a bottle of their favourite lube in Gil's hands. 

"Someone was pretty sure of himself," Malcolm teases, nipping at Gil's lip as his hands roam over Gil's chest, still clad in a light-knit sweater in a shade of toasted pumpkin that perfectly shows off his tan.

"Can't blame a man for hoping," Gil chuckles as he pours some lube onto his fingers and sets the bottle in the corner of the chair. He gives a cursory stroke to each of their cocks before sliding his hand between Malcolm's legs, his fingers unerringly finding the tight little hole.

"Mmmm," Malcolm moans as Gil's fingertips run slow circles over the muscle. "I'm glad you did. I wo—"

His words are cut off with a gasp and a groan as Gil dips a finger inside of him, the digit sliding in and out with ease, thanks to the lube. It doesn't take long until Gil can slide a second finger in along with the first, pumping slow and steady into Malcolm's body. With a happy sigh, Malcolm drops his head to Gil's shoulder

"You're so tight, kid," Gil whispers against Malcolm's ear. His fingers keep moving, scissoring him open with every pull, but he also moves his free hand to their cocks, gathering them into his firm grip and stroking in time with the fingers in Malcolm's ass. "I can't wait to feel you tight around my dick."

"Yes. Do it," Malcolm pants as his body wars between rocking back onto Gil's fingers and forward into the tunnel of his fist.

"So eager." The smile is obvious in Gil's words but he makes no move to speed things along, keeping a steady pace that threatens to drive Malcolm insane. "Need to get you ready for me first, city boy. Get you nice and open so I can slide right in."

Malcolm is quite sure he's never wanted anything more.

Gil takes his time, drawing mewling pleas out of Malcolm as he stretches him open and continues to stroke both of their cocks, so hard now that they're both leaking, slicking them up even more. Their lips eventually find their way back to one another, exchanging sloppy kisses around their shared moans until Malcolm can't wait any longer. 

"I'm ready," Malcolm says, dropping his hand to still Gil's where he continues to jerk them off.

"Yeah?" Gil asks, pulling back to look Malcolm in the eye, gauging just how ready he is. "You ready to ride me, sweetheart?"

In lieu of an answer, Malcolm pushes himself up on his knees, the blanket falling down as Gil's fingers pull from his ass with a wet squelch. He shimmies forward until his hole is lined up with Gil's cock, only waiting until Gil has wrapped a hand around his dick to guide it in before he begins to lower himself slowly, savouring the stretch as Gil pops through the tight ring of muscle, beginning the long slide down into Gil's lap.

"Jesus, kid," Gil groans as Malcolm's ass grinds down against his balls, finally bottoming out. "You feel so good."

Malcolm couldn't agree more. 

He feels amazing.

Gil runs his palms up and down Malcolm's thighs as he takes a moment to adjust, continuing his litany of praise and encouragement. "God, Bright. You're so perfect for me. Hot and tight and so damn gorgeous when you're stuffed full of my cock."

Malcolm clenches around Gil as the words spark through his body, igniting a fire in his gut. He loves being good for Gil.

"You love this, don't you, sweetheart? Sitting on my dick, out here where anyone could see you riding me, being such a good boy for me."

"Yes, yes, yes." Malcolm starts to rock with the words as they pour from his mouth, his cock throbbing at the thought of being caught like this, practically naked with Gil buried deep inside of him while his husband is almost fully clothed, leaned back and relaxed in his chair. He imagines how wanton he must look as he pulls himself up and drops back down to Gil's lap, his hard cock bobbing and leaking between them.

Gil's hands drift to his hips as Malcolm picks up the pace, steadying his movements as he well and truly begins to fuck himself on Gil's cock. The grip makes Malcolm feel so secure, knowing Gil is holding him up, holding him together. He abandons himself to the pleasure that's coursing through his veins, his toes curling next to Gil's knees as Gil's cock brushes over his prostate.

"Do you know how sexy you are like this?" Gil says, his words breathless, whether with desire or exertion as he bucks up into Malcolm's body, Malcolm doesn't know. "Bouncing in my lap and taking my cock so well?"

One of Gil's hands slides from Malcolm's hip to his cock, wrapping around it just the way Malcolm likes best, letting his movements as he rides Gil push his cock through the tight channel of his hand. It's enough to send Malcolm hurtling towards orgasm, leaving him moaning incoherently as he fucks himself harder, faster, chasing his release.

"Are you close, sweetheart?" Gil asks, nipping at Malcolm's earlobe. At the keening whine that Malcolm manages as a response, Gil growls, "Good. Come for me, Malcolm."

The tingling warmth that had been building low in his gut suddenly explodes through his body and he's shooting stripes of hot come all over Gil's hand, sparing half a thought of regret for Gil's sweater, which takes a few of the milky ropes as well.

Gil groans as Malcolm clenches around him, his hand never stopping as he works Malcolm's cock until the sensitivity leaves him hissing and digging his nails into Gil's biceps. When Gil lets go, after Malcolm is completely drained dry, Malcolm practically collapses on top of him.

"Fuck, Bright. That was beautiful," Gil says, spreading his thighs a little wider and taking a firm grip on Malcolm's hips as he begins to thrust hard into his lax body. "So good for me."

Malcolm does his best to squeeze around Gil as he fucks him, wanting his husband to find his release, wanting him to come inside of him.

He doesn't have to wait long. Only a few moments later, Gil is throwing his head back and grunting Malcolm's name, his hips stuttering in the final few thrusts as he shoots his load deep inside of Malcolm.

Gil only takes a moment to catch his breath before he wraps an arm around Malcolm's waist and leans forward slightly to grab the blanket, pulling it back up over Malcolm before he leans back in the chair, settling Malcolm on his chest.

It's Malcolm's absolute favourite way to sit — sated and boneless and sprawled over Gil while his husband softens inside of his body. With the blanket wrapped snug around his back and Gil's body heat warming up his front, Malcolm thinks that he could stay like this forever.

Gil's hands run soothingly over his back, fingers trailing along his spine and up into his hair, gently tugging on the hairs at the nape of his neck. They both remain silent, basking in one another's presence, until Malcolm begins to nuzzle into Gil's neck, his breathing falling deep as he slips towards sleep.

"Bright," Gil says quietly, running a hand up to ruffle through his hair. "Don't fall asleep just yet, sweetheart. We still need to wash up and get to bed."

Very much against his will, Malcolm allows Gil to lead them upstairs and to the shower, though he does take the opportunity to finally press himself up against Gil's naked body, enjoying the feel of the skin-to-skin contact. The shower is long and tranquil, both men luxuriating in the quality time together, taking their time to wash, to dry off, to curl up in the king-size bed together.

As Malcolm settles his head on Gil's chest, he thinks back on the day, on just how perfect it was. Spending time, the three of them together as a family, is always his favourite way to spend a day. But doing it out here, with no distractions and no cases hanging over their heads, feels especially idyllic.

The fact that they have three more days to enjoy together is just the icing on the cake.

"I love you, Gil," Malcolm says, sleepy and smiling and listening to the beat of Gil's heart below him.

"Love you, too, kid," Gil murmurs, clearly as ready to fall asleep as Malcolm. 

With Gil's arms wrapped around him and visions of more family time together in the near future, Malcolm falls into a peaceful sleep, thankful for everything in his life that led him here — to a life with Gil and Analyn.

As difficult as his past has been, everything he's endured has led him to this moment.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you KateSamantha for the beta!


End file.
